


Understandings Long Overdue

by Crypterion_Moon



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Batfam bingo 2019, Brotherly Bonding, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Self-Doubt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-08-10 01:33:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crypterion_Moon/pseuds/Crypterion_Moon
Summary: Tim works himself to the bone and into the ground, but no one has ever told him that he's already done enough, that he doesn't need to mourn anymore. No one knows what he needs to hear to finally accept that all he needs to be is 'Alright'. No one except for the one person who's been standing the furthest away.





	Understandings Long Overdue

If there’s one thing Damian learned about Tim Drake in the short time they were even in each other’s presence, is that Tim genuinely hates failure. If there was one thing he was sure he wrong about Drake, it’s that he did anything for himself. So when he failed to save everyone from the explosion, no amount of assurances from Grayson, Pennyworth or even Father assured him he was innocent.

No.

He had to believe he was at fault, that everything fell apart because of him.

This was one more thing added to the list of things he didn’t understand about people and especially about Drake because he’s never blamed himself, never willingly took and REALLY took the world on his shoulders. Even growing up, trained to be the best assassin, there was no responsibility, no accountability. People were things and things were tools, that was how he was taught.

Drake never claimed things for himself. ‘Not necessary’ he’d say, polite, too polite. Even when Batman was reaching out and asking if he was alright, he just smiled, fake, back and said he was okay. How does one get it through his dense brain that he wasn’t. 

But when Damian looked into those eyes, he realized they were too pale of a blue, and empty. He knew, just how broken he was. No one needed to tell him. It was the last thing he needed.

Damian followed Drake shortly after the ex-Robin had retreated to his room. He paused at the door, hearing faint sounds from the other side. Sniffing and quiet sobs. He could burst in through the door right now and demand that Drake pull himself together, but that’s not a very nice thing to do, so Grayson said, especially since he didn’t know how to do it. Brown did, she was extremely good at it, but she wasn’t here.  
Damian knocked four time, lightly rapping his knuckles against the wood.

“Uh, just a moment,” he heard Drake call out, with a voice as calm as he could make it.

“Okay, come in.”

The moment Damian entered, Drake’s face fell slightly. He must have been expecting someone else, well, definitely not Damian at any point. But he put up his mask, as acceptable of a mask as he could, playing nonchalant.

“Can I help you,” he said almost to casually. Damian could see he was crying, his eyes were still too red to hide.

“I don’t need help,” Damian said and for a moment, he could see Drake was on the defensive, gearing up for a nasty comment. He regrets it, that he cultured such animosity between them, so he cleared his throat, “I’m here for you.”

Drake’s expression changed into something of confusion, still wary of him, but his walls are down slightly.

“You...did well,” he said, the words taste foreign in his mouth. He’s never uttered them before.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” one of Drake’s other skills, hedging, dodging the subject.

“I mean during the mission -”  
“I know you’re talking about that. Look if you’re here to dig at me then could you do it some other time and not in my room.”

It was beyond frustrating that this was becoming another one of their fights and worse, Damian even had the little voice that sounded vaguely like Grayson saying there was no one to blame but himself.

“I’m not here to ‘dig’ at you Drake, I’m here to tell you that perhaps you should stop ‘digging’ at yourself.”

Drake looked back at him in surprise at those words, he opened his mouth, ready to deny it or hedge or whatever way he was going to back himself out of this conversation.

“Before you find yourself in an early grave. I find that is not a pleasant way to go.”

“Wouldn’t that be a wonderful thing, to you I mean?”

Damian huffed, “At some point yes, while I still lacked the right mind to comprehend you. But you are worth more than what you tell yourself, I meant it as well, when I said you did well.

Doubt reached across Drake’s face as he processed the statement. Some part of him must want to believe, and if it’s coming from Damian, he’s has very little proof that they were fake. But the other part of him loved doubts and self-loathing.

“That? You call that doing well, when a dozen people lost their lives because I couldn’t get there fast enough?”

“Yes, because if it hasn’t occurred to you, none of us could either,” Damian wished he had something to fiddle with, but he didn’t have a sword to clean or even Pennyworth to pet so he focused his eyes on his hand and the callouses on them. He always did feel uncomfortable when people stared at him, and right now, Drake’s extremely blue eyes were glued to him, because he always stared when he was focused on something or someone. It should be flattering really, that he finally had the older Robin’s full attention.

“And if it weren’t for you, two dozen more people would have lost their lives. No one could come up with a plan as you did. I would know. I have spent a long time watching you, waiting for you to fail, Drake.”

The longest time trying to find a reason to pin the needle on his predecessor because that’s what rivals do. The only thing about that was it was all one sided. Drake instead of doing the same thing, did exactly nothing that he’d been taught of the world. He worked his damned hardest for the people around him. His goal wasn’t to be better, his goal was to be the best person he could be because people needed him.  
It was on the list of things Damian needed a severe amount of work on.

“All I found was a man who’d sacrifice life and limb for anyone. You’d go further than anyone was willing to go. You would save anyone, be they worthy or not of your mercy. It is, as I soon realized, something I lacked immensely. Tell yourself what you will, but not even I can discount you as a person and a hero.”

Drake didn’t say anything then, just sat and let those words sink in. Then the tension he’d been holding eased out and Damian felt that same tension leave him too.

“I used to be so sure of myself, like I had it all together. When I first wore the costume, I was nervous, scared even that I’d screw up. But it was all I wanted, all that I had left.”

The world changed him. Damian finally realized it, from the moment he met Tim as Robin to the moment he came back after bringing Father home, that he was no longer the person they knew. What was once bright was now dark. The feeling that lanced through him was something he had come to realize was guilt. If he could take it all back, warn his foolish, selfish younger self of what he would destroy, he would.

“I am also to blame for that.”

“Well, part of it,” Drake gave him a sorrow tinged smile, but it was a genuine as what the ex-Robin could give, “I remember being okay once, I was happy. Even dorky then, I loved it.”

“There’s no reason you can’t return to that part of you, it still is you.”

Drake looked at him thoughtfully, as if truly considering the idea. He gave a breathy chuckle and turned his gaze up to the ceiling, “Maybe, maybe some day when I can accept all the things I’ve lost. It won’t be exactly the same but-”

“You will be alright again.”

“I’ll be alright again.”

Drake glanced towards the bedroom door which was still ajar, “Of all the people I wasn’t expecting you, Damian.”

“Father might claim to be the most observant but he stays too close to see what you needed.”

“Forest for the trees?”

“Indeed.”

If Tim had squinted, he would have spotted the tell tale corner of Alfred’s suit, standing at the door and smiling fondly. Things would improve after all.


End file.
